


Cat and kittens

by Gilli_ann



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 21:26:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10648377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: Why did Lobelia turn into the Hobbiton harridan? How was she as a young lass?





	Cat and kittens

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Names and events all belong to the Tolkien estate, and I do not profit from writing this.

The kittens were skipping around her on the green lawn, the embodiment of joyful and carefree abandon. She couldn’t help smiling, and pulled a ribbon from her hat to dangle it enticingly before the nose of an especially agile black-and-grey little furball. The kitten happily obliged by pouncing for the ribbon, getting a tiny claw stuck in the process. She lifted the tiny being, helped it get free, and petted the soft little creature tenderly for a moment before setting it back down on the lawn with its siblings. 

The kittens continued rolling about, playing and having fun in mock fights. She envied them – living so much in the moment, perfectly content with their life, not aware of any past, not able to scheme and plan for the future.

She sighed and braced herself, turning to leave, but then stopped short. The smial was empty, since the menfolk and servants had all gone off to the pony market. Her garden was secluded, bordered on all sides by both trees and fences. She was completely alone, and the midday sun made her drowsy and relaxed all at once. Just like a kitten, in fact, though she rolled her eyes at this impossibly stupid thought. 

Nevertheless, after a moment’s hesitation she removed the long-fringed shawl, placed her elegant hat on a rose bush, unbuttoned her dress a little, loosened the stays, arranged her skirts and eased back on the green, soft lawn.

She looked up into the blue sky and let her mind wander where it would, dreamily returning to carefree days. She always did, those few times she let her thoughts roam freely without restraints of bitterness, hurt, anger or scheming, and without consideration to others’ eyes on her. 

For a while she simply basked in the sun, stretching and almost purring with contentment, surprising herself by laughing loudly and merrily. She became the lass she once was, dancing through every day in playful anticipation – enjoying her life, certain it would yield to her exactly what she wanted and so obviously deserved. She was her old self again there in the sun with the kittens, without a care in the world. It felt truly wonderful.

She looked fondly over at the kittens, and realized their mother had returned. The brood had gathered around her expectantly. At first she thought they were about to feed, but then she realized that a training session was in progress. Their mother had brought a live prey for them to play with and eventually kill. They were toying with a small mouse. It was darting desperately between them, in mortal terror, trying ineffectually to break free. The kittens were having fun, jumping about, batting at the hapless little rodent with their claws, testing their teeth on it.

“That’s the real truth of it,” she thought as she sat up to watch them, her exuberance evaporating. “Even the softest kitten is nothing but a callous killer, and its survival depends upon cruelty to others. Eat, or be eaten, we all instinctively know it, and the wise and careful act upon it. Only fools disregard the obvious!”

***

Life wasn’t kind or beautiful, she’d learned that. The world didn’t just hand you the life you deserved on a golden platter. Her own young girl’s illusions to the contrary had abruptly been dashed a long time ago.

Bilbo had rejected her. Though his words were kind, he obviously didn’t even take her seriously, he just thought it a bit of silly young tweener fancy, soon to be forgotten, not to be heeded. 

But as he unknowingly stomped on her self-assurance and crushed the certainty of her future, all her innate stubbornness and pride grew strong in their stead. Resentment filled her thoughts and actions. She’d taken it for granted she would have her wishes fulfilled. All the more terrifying was her confusion at being turned down.

She’d chosen a superior and condescending mien as a means of propping herself up in public then, just like the stays of her dress kept her back straight and her posture just so. She carefully hid her deep hurt and insecurity behind a shield of cold contempt. 

At the time she’d believed it would be temporary. The rejection would lose its bitter sting, and then she would afford to be a kind and considerate lass again. She had imagined that she’d not need her emotional armour for long. But instead, she’d become increasingly dependent on it, and soon it had become part of her. Without it, she’d be as helpless and vulnerable as a turtle out of its shell – she wouldn’t know how to survive. 

She could not even imagine daring to be that girl again, the girl who actually enjoyed life with a trusting heart at constant risk of bruising and crushing. It was too dangerous. She considered it pure silliness to even contemplate the notion. Luckily, she’d gotten smarter with age. Now, she kept everyone at bay, and always ensured to get the first blow in herself. 

And she’d found it impossible to just put his insult aside to move on. Instead she made it her business in life to rectify the situation, to prove that she’d been right and he was wrong and nothing but a fool. She _would_ become who she was clearly destined to be, even though he had refused to make it happen. That became her one overriding passion; - becoming the wife she _should_ have been, married to the man _he_ should have been. She intended to take up the position of rightful mistress of his home, riches and possessions. 

Long before coming of age she’d married his cousin and heir to make that happen.

And yet he kept thwarting her! He refused to yield her rightful life to her! Soon thereafter he even came back out of the wild as from the dead to squash her plans. Then he adopted a new heir to hamper her plans. 

But the stays that kept her upright continued to serve her well. She didn’t give up, and she never let herself have doubts. She just strengthened her armour of bitter haughtiness all the more, and kept going. She couldn’t let go by now – this had become her life.

***

The kittens had killed the mouse. She didn’t care for watching them anymore, and she rose to leave. All temporary joy had leaked from the day. Carefully she rearranged her dress, and tied the shawl tightly and neatly. Fixing her scowl just as firmly back on her face as she secured the hat on her head, she was ready to be seen in public once more.

She looked back at the cat mother and her kittens. She really ought to see to having them drowned. There were too many cats about, ruining her flower-beds and yowling despicably in the night. She snorted derisively. Cats – what a pest they were, when all was said and done! 

Nevertheless, she decided on a different course of action. She determined to bully the gardener into finding all of the kittens new homes. After all, she did have her reputation as a harridan to uphold. 

Arming herself with her umbrella as if it were a sword, Lobelia strode forth from the privacy of her smial into public life, ready to do battle with the first soul who’d dare to oppose or displease her.


End file.
